


I Don't Like You, I Love You

by bandito06



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Antichrist, Armageddon, F/M, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, No beta we fall like Crowley, Self-Conscious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25817773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandito06/pseuds/bandito06
Summary: When Aziraphale had said that he didn’t like Crowley, it was because he didn’t. He loved Crowley and maybe, with the world ending and all, it was time Crowley finally knew. Maybe then it wouldn’t be so bad when Hell and Heaven fight because Aziraphale will have finally told Crowley his feelings. Or maybe they will be idiots and wait until the very end to actually get together.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub & Gabriel (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Kudos: 33





	I Don't Like You, I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> So, I attempted to write smut. You can skip it. I added a warning where it starts. 
> 
> I wanted to write this because the idea has been living in the back of my brain for a while until finally I just word vomited it and alas we have this fic.

“I don’t even like you!” Aziraphale shouts, forcing the tears from his eyes. Of course he doesn’t like Crowley. He loves Crowley and it terrifies him more than the forces of Heaven and Hell combined. It also fills him with so much pain and happiness it might kill him before the war. Oh, what the other angels would say at the sight of poor, pitiful Aziraphale pinning after a demon who is so far out of Aziraphale’s league there’s galaxies between them.

He can hear Gabriel's words running through his mind. "Lose the gut." Over and over like a wheel of sorrow and misery.

“You do!” Crowley shouts back as Aziraphale turns away. Crowley’s voice is desperate and full of pain. The kind of tone of voice that cuts through Aziraphale and makes him want to hold Crowley until everything is better. Instead, Aziraphale shakes his head. He has to do this so Crowley will hate him. So the demon won’t think twice about shoving a sword made of hellfire through the angel and killing him. Maybe it’s selfish but Aziraphale would rather die at the hands of the man he loves then have someone else kill him.

“I’m sorry, Crowley,” he whispers. He starts to walk away but a sharp ache in his heart makes his footsteps slow and uneven. The same ache forces tears to flow freely like twin waterfalls of misery spilling from his pale blue eyes. Angels aren't supposed to love something this much. They are supposed to love everything equally but somehow Crowley became the one exception for Aziraphale.

“Aziraphale! Wait!” The angel turns. He can’t help it. He’s too far in love to not instantly turn around at the pleading tone in the demon’s voice. Crowley takes his glasses off and steps closer to Aziraphale. “Look me in the eye. Tell me you don’t like me and I will leave you alone. Ang-Aziraphale, if you are telling the truth and don’t want me around anymore, I will go. Just, please don’t leave me guessing again.” How can Aziraphale respond to that?

He looks Crowley in the eye and opens his mouth to lie. Angels shouldn't lie either.

“I-I...don't like you, Crowley.” A mixture of sadness and pain flickers across Crowley’s face. “I’m sorry, my dear. I can’t lie to you anymore.” Crowley’s face shuts down before he glares daggers at Aziraphale. The angel wonders if the hole in his chest is bleeding enough for the demon to see it. He is half tempted to look down to see if blood stains his shirt. He would deserve it, the blood-red liquid seeping through the white fabric.

“Then don’t. I don't need your fucking lies. I’m glad you told me. I suppose this changes things then, huh Angel.” The last word feels like a barb digging into Aziraphale’s chest. The blond shakes his head and backs away from Crowley. He wants to erase the look on the demon’s face. He wants to erase it all, just a bad nightmare.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers before fleeing. He harshly wipes away the tears that continue to flow down his face. The tears flow faster until he can barely see. Aziraphale bumps into a woman. “I’m sorry!” The woman looks at him with worry. 

“Are you okay?” she asks him. Aziraphale moves to nod his head before the woman sends him a glare, warning him to not lie. The blond shakes his head no. He’s not okay. The farthest from okay he’s ever been. This isn’t as bad as the time he thought Crowley was going to kill himself. This is so much worse. 

“I’ve made a huge mistake,” Aziraphale croaks. 

“Do you wanna tell me about it?”

“I-I shouldn’t. I really don’t want to take up your time and force you to sit through my mistake-”

“With all due respect, please shut the fuck up. I don’t have to be anywhere for the next couple of hours so why don’t you and I go to that cafe over there and you can tell me what’s been bothering you.” Aziraphale nods his head and follows the woman. “I’m Lila, by the way.”

“Az.” The woman nods and opens the door for Aziraphale. The cafe is small and there are one or two patrons sitting around enjoying their drinks and pastries. The workers stand behind the counter talking causally. If Aziraphale ever needs a place to escape too, this place might be perfect. It's cozy yet elegant.

“Tea?” Aziraphale nods. The woman orders and leads the heartbroken blond to a small table in the corner. She sets a teacup in front of Aziraphale and a small plate of scones and croissants in the center of the table. “Spill.”

“I-I don’t know where to start,” Aziraphale admits, staring at the teacup in his hands. The reddish color reminds him too much of Crowley so he pushes the porcelain cup away. It wobbles slightly at the sudden movement. Lila purses her lips and gently takes the cup away.

“Start at the beginning,” she encourages. Aziraphale nods his head and begins shakily.

At first, the words are hard to get out, choking him with every other sentence, but once he continues going the words just spill out, tumbling over each other in an attempt to escape. He tells about how he and Crowley met in a garden(leaving out the fact that it was the garden. The original) and how he had offered his umbrella to Crowley when it had started to rain. How they would meet up every so often and how their bosses wouldn’t be happy about their meetings. He told her about how he couldn’t wait for those stolen moments. How he would count down the hours until it was time for another meeting or hang around the places he knew Crowley frequented just for a glimpse of the demon.

The whole time Lila was silent and listening. Even when he told her about his and Crowley’s feud over fraternizing and how they didn’t talk for a long time after that. She didn’t judge when he went on a long rant about how Crowley is perfect in every way and how Aziraphale wishes he would accept compliments that just seem to spill off Aziraphale’s tongue. How they will go to Saint Jame’s park and walk around and talk. How his heart no longer beats to keep Aziraphale alive but it beats for Crowley.

Aziraphale’s voice shakes as he recounts the events that took place not long ago.

“I-I told him I don’t like him,” Aziraphale sobs. The woman lays her hand on Aziraphale’s, sympathy and sadness filling her eyes. "I told him I don't like him when that's the farthest thing from the truth." He wipes his tears with a handkerchief pulled from his pocket.

“It sounds like you don’t like him.” Aziraphale looks at her in shock, opening his mouth to argue when she continues. “It sounds like you love him.” 

“That’s great,” the blond says bitterly. “I love a man who probably hates my guts.” Tears well up in his eyes, threatening to spill over again. “How did I manage to fuck this up so badly?” Lila shakes her head. She places a carmel hand over one of the angel's pale hands.

“You didn’t fuck it up.” At Aziraphale’s look she rolls her eyes. “Okay, so maybe you did but if you really truly love him you will try to fix it. If he loves you back, he will try to fix it as well. It may take a while but you can do it, my friend.” Aziraphale smiles softly and takes a sip of his now cold tea. The soft tinkling of the door makes his head swing up to look. His heart beats rapidly as he sees who it is.

Crowley stands in the entrance, glaring daggers at anyone who goes near him. His red hair is messy and his sunglasses are back on his face. Lila turns around to see who Aziraphale is staring at him. She says nothing for a moment, taking in the angry man. It must seem so weird to her, how Aziraphale could love someone so much better than him. She must be thinking that Aziraphale has no way in hell of getting a chance with Crowley. She must be thinking all the things everyone else seems to forget to say.

“That him?” Aziraphale nods. Lila pats his hand. “Well, go on.” Aziraphale stumbles to his feet and, somehow, makes his way to Crowley without falling on his face. The demon’s reaches out to steady Aziraphale before pulling away as if burned. 

“Crowley-”

“I just wanted to tell you I’ll deal with Armageddon. You can go hang out with someone you like. I’m sure that wanker Gabriel would love to have you around and corrupt your mind too,” Crowley interrupts, practically snarling the words. Aziraphale stares at him, his mouth wide open. Crowley looks at him for a moment longer before turning away. The door closes with a slam.

“Well, go on then!” Lila shouts. Aziraphale opens his mouth to protest but Lila waves him away. “Go get your man!” Aziraphale nods and hurries out the door. He performs a small miracle, making sure that Lila wins the lottery and that she has happiness in her life until the day she dies. 

The blond spots the tall, dark figure of his friend slinking down the crowded street. Aziraphale hurries to catch up before realizing it’s hopeless.

“Anthony J. Crowley!” Aziraphale shouts, performing a miracle so that only Crowley can hear him. The redhead stops and turns around, glaring at Aziraphale. A tear slips down the demon’s face, or maybe it’s a raindrop from the storm clouds that slowly starts to let the rain descend on the citizens of London.

“What do you want?” Crowley snarls, suddenly in front of Aziraphale. His sunglasses slide down his nose enough that Aziraphale can see the pain and sorrow in his eyes. He thought the pain in his chest couldn't get any worse but clearly he was mistaken. “You made it perfectly clear you don’t want me around.”

“Crowley, that’s not true!” The demon snorts.

“It is because your an Angel and don’t you pride yourself on not lying!” Aziraphale opens his mouth to speak, deciding he needs to let the words out. “Just forget it. I don’t need you.”

“But, Crowley, I need you,” Aziraphale whispers to his friends back. Crowley freezes. “I didn’t lie when I said I don’t like you. It’s because how I feel about you can’t be described as ‘liking you’. I need you Crowley because...I-I love you. I love you Crowley and I’m sorry that I’m such an idiot that I can’t even tell you properly. I know this will probably ruin our friendship because you can’t possibly feel-”

“Angel,” Crowley says, exasperated. “You’re supposed to feel love yet you can’t tell that I love you?” Aziraphale looks at his friend, stunned.

“Y-you do?” 

“Yeah.” Crowley runs a hand through his hair. “I’mma need a little bit to think everything through but once I’ve thought about it, I hope you will have me.” Aziraphale nods his head, still think about the fact that Crowley loves him.

“Of course. Take as long as you need to think.” He bites his lip nervously as Crowley turns away. “And Crowley?” The demon stops. “I really am truly sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I was just...scared for you and for myself. But once you are done thinking...I think I’ll be ready for you. I won’t be as scared because Heaven and Hell don’t terrify me as much as the thought of losing you.” A ghost of a smile crosses Crowley’s face. The ginger kisses Aziraphale on the cheek before lifting a hand in farewell. Aziraphale waves back.

He turns back towards the cafe where Lila waits in the same booth they sat in before. 

“So, how’d it go?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. Aziraphale sits in the booth across from her, feeling both tired and energetic at the same time. A small, hopeful smile graces his face.

“It went...well. He told me he needs time to think but once he’s done thinking he wants to try a relationship.” Lila smiles happily.

“I’m happy for you, Az. Now, sorry to leave in a rush but my partners need me back at our house. I hope everything works out for you.” Aziraphale smiles.

“Thank you--for listening and for encouraging me. Without you, I’d probably go a long time just crying about it instead of doing something about it.” Lila pats his hand.

“I’m sure you would have gotten there eventually.” The woman leaves, texting furiously on her phone to someone. She gives one last wave to Aziraphale before heading out into the rain. Aziraphale smiles and makes his way to the bookstore.'

Tadfield Air Base

Aziraphale makes his way to where the Armageddon will start. The woman whose body he is inhabiting seems giddy despite the fact that he explained to her the world is ending. Sargent Shadwell mutters about demons and witches the whole time.

“Sorry, can’t let anyone in,” the guard says at the gate. Aziraphale lets out a huff of disappointment and worry. If they can’t get in, how can they get to the Antichrist?  
That’s when a blazing Bentley comes rocketing down the road with a crazy demon in the driver’s seat. Crowley hops out of the car, looking like he was thrown in a wind turbine  
and then a giant lake.

“Can’t get that out of a modern car!” the redhead drawls, sauntering towards the odd trio.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale says happily. The demon look at Aziraphale, who gives a happy little wave. A smile breaks through the ocean of sadness that has taken over Crowley’s face.

“Nice dress, angel.”

“Oh, thank you!” the woman says. Shadwell hefts his weapon and mutters something about redheads being demons. 

“This man won’t let us in!” Aziraphale complains, pointing at the guard who’s face suggests he’s seen weirder things than a man driving a burning car, a woman who has two voices and a homeless looking man muttering about witches. 

That’s when the Bentley explodes. Crowley’s pride and joy. The one thing Crowley loves the most in the world. The car erupts in flames and destruction. Aziraphale watches as Crowley falls to his knees. His heart--well, the woman’s heart, I suppose--aches for the demon but he knows they need to get into the airbase. 

“Crowley! We need to get in!” Aziraphale calls, wishing he could let Crowley mourn the loss of the Bentley.

“I’m having a moment!” Crowley calls back, his voice broken and sad.

“I know and I’m sorry, dear, but we really need to get inside.” Crowley gets up and turns to Aziraphale. The angel wishes he didn’t see the tears reflecting in the demon’s beautiful eyes. 

Aziraphale knows he needs to get inside so he snaps his fingers and the man guarding the gates disappears.

“Oh, dear. I do hope I sent him somewhere nice,” he mutters. Crowley rolls his eyes as they march into the air force. 

The first thing Aziraphale notices is the young, blond-haired boy standing surrounded by three other children. Adam Young, the Antichrist, the spawn of Satan. Just a young boy having to decide the fate of the world. Aziraphale wonders why such power is being put on someone so young. Someone who’s only life-and-death adventures are the ones he makes up in his head.

Adam looks at Aziraphale and frowns.

“Why are you two people?” he asks. “You aren’t supposed to be two people.” And, just like that, Aziraphale is back in his own body.

“Thank you, dear boy.” The woman--Madame Tracy--looks startled at only being herself again. Crowley catches Aziraphale’s eye and smiles. The angel smiles back.  
After that, everything passes in a blur of terror and sadness. Later, Aziraphale could tell you every detail but at that moment he’s just focussing on the Antichrist and his terrible boss, who had decided to show up.

(Aziraphale had rolled his eyes at the way Gabriel and Beezlebub were acting. Everyone in Heaven knows the two like each other. Uriel had started a bet on how long it would take for the two to get together. Michael had won with a week. Some poor angel almost got caught bringing back the evidence of the relationship.)

Aziraphale watches in horror as Crowley collapses to the ground, telling everyone that the leader of Hell, Adam’s father, is coming.

“Do something or I’ll-” Aziraphale glances at his sword that he has reclaimed. He knows he could use it but on Crowley? No. He couldn’t do that. “-I’ll never speak to you again!” The look of fear on Crowley’s face makes Aziraphale want to take back the words but then, Aziraphale finds himself in a desert with Crowley and the Antichrist. He barely listens to what Crowley says as he marvels at what happened. When they appear back in reality, Aziraphale and Crowley stand on either side of Adam, holding the young boy's hands as Satan emerges from the ground.

Aziraphale wants to pull away at the power that radiates from the boy. He doesn’t, though. Instead, he glares up at Satan(a mighty feat since the angel is terrified of the leader of Hell) and ignores his instincts screaming at him to run.

“You aren’t my dad!” Adam shouts power coursing through every word. The power that radiates through this child terrifies and awes Aziraphale. 

Every time Adam screams those words, telling Lucifer that he isn’t the father of the Antichrist, the bond between Adam and Hell weakens until it is no more. Until, suddenly, Adam is the child of Mr. and Mrs. Young. And Warlock is the son of Mr. and Mrs. Dowling.

Satan is gone. Armageddon has been thwarted.

And Aziraphale just wants to collapse in Crowley’s arms. He finds himself right next to Crowley as soon as he finishes the thought. Adam sends him a wink and a smile to which the angel blushes. Young kids are really too perceptive sometimes. 

“Crowley-” Aziraphale tries to say something, anything but he can’t because something better has occupied his mouth. Something that involves Crowley’s lips. When Crowley pulls away, Aziraphale can see the agony and pain written in the lines of his demon’s face. But he also sees happiness and love.

“I’m done thinking, angel,” Crowley whispers, pressing his forehead to Aziraphale’s.

“And I’m done being scared.” Crowley smiles and kisses Aziraphale again. On his forehead, on his cheeks, on his nose, his chin, his eyelids, and then, finally, again on his mouth. Aziraphale wishes he could kiss Crowley for eternity but he can’t. Just being able to hold Crowley makes him feel so much better. It's as if he was Atlas, from Greek Mythology, holding up the world until Crowley came and helped ease his burden. 

“Get a room, you two!” someone shouts. Aziraphale turns to see the young woman whom Crowley hit with his car. 

“I’m sorry about the Bentley.” Crowley shrugs.

“I have you, now. The Bentley I will always love but I will worship you until the day I die.” Aziraphale smiles softly, swiping his thumb across Crowley's cheek, before turning to the humans.  
“This is my boyfriend, Newt!” the young woman says happily. Newt looks startled by this label but smiles all the same. They are quite an odd couple with the woman's prettiness and odd style and the man's jumpiness and nervous style. They make it work, though. Looking as though they were made to stand by each other's side and hold hands the way they are.

“Let’s go home, darling,” Aziraphale whispers to Crowley, feeling a twinge of sorrow and jealousy in his stomach. He wants to have someone like that. Someone he can hug and hold hands with and wake up next too. Maybe, Crowley can be his someone. 

The two make their way out of the airbase. “The bookshop?” Aziraphale suggests. A pained look crosses the demon’s face.

“I’m sorry, angel, but the bookshop burned down.” Aziraphale feels all the blood drain from his face. He opens his mouth and then closes it. He pushes his face against Crowley’s chest and lets out a small sob. “I’m sorry, angel So, so sorry.” Crowley strokes Aziraphale’s hair. “You can stay at my place if you want.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Crowley’s flat is bare except for some furniture. Aziraphale raises an eyebrow at the giant throne in the middle of the living room to which Crowley grumbles something about liking the style.

Aziraphale kisses Crowley, suddenly, wrapping his arms around the demon’s neck. The redhead kisses him back like there is no tomorrow. I guess you can do that once you’ve experienced the reality of there being no tomorrow.

“I thought I lost you,” Crowley whispers, pulling back. Aziraphale leans his forehead against the other man’s forehead. “When I saw the bookshop burning I-I thought you were inside. I went in there and I called your name. When you didn’t respond, I thought you were dead. It felt like my whole world was crashing down. I was furious! How-how could the Almighty ta-take you like that?” Aziraphale rubs a thumb soothingly along the redhead’s cheek.

“I’m right here, darling.” Crowley kisses him again, soft and slow until it becomes a passionate kiss.

***(smut warning)

“I need you, angel. I need to feel you,” Crowley gasps. Aziraphale nods and starts tugging at Crowley’s shirt. The demon leads the blond towards the bedroom. With a growl, Crowley pushes Aziraphale against the bed so that he falls backwards. The redhead attacks the blond’s neck, kissing and sucking at every inch of skin visible and nudging the shirt away so that he can reach more skin. Aziraphale lets out a gasp.

“Crowley,” he groans, pushing the demon’s shirt up. With a snap, their clothes are gone and it’s skin against skin. A large part of Aziraphale wants to push Crowley away and demand a shirt so that the redhead doesn’t have to see his torso. “Crowley, wait.” The demon stops and looks at Aziraphale in confusion. “Can-can I have my shirt back?”

“Why?” Crowley asks. “I can give you your shirt back but may I have a reason?” Aziraphale looks at him with wide eyes. He wraps his arms around his torso protectively.

“I’m soft,” he whispers. Crowley’s eyes darken as he leans forward.

“I happen to like soft,” the demon whispers. “I think you are beautiful, angel. Please don’t cover-up. If you cover up then I can’t see all this gorgeousness you keep hidden underneath all your silly layers.” Aziraphale can’t argue with that(although, if his neck wasn’t being bitten and kissed he might have argued that his layers aren’t silly).

“Okay.” Crowley smirks and kisses his way down to Aziraphale’s nipples. He takes one his mouth, his tongue slowly swirling around it, making the angel moan and arch his back. The smirk widens as Crowley gives the same treatment to the other nipple. The demon slowly makes his way down. He reaches Aziraphale’s thighs and nuzzles each of them. Aziraphale feels kisses being trailed up and down his thighs before-

“Oh!” he gasps as Crowley’s tongue gives a swift lick to his cock. Warm lips wrap around the tip before moving downwards slowly. Aziraphale moans and wraps his fingers in Crowley’s flaming hair. The soft strands tangle with his fingers as he lightly tugs on Crowley's hair. The demon lets out a moan of approval before shoving Aziraphale's cock all the way into his mouth. The angel can't help the slight shriek that escapes.

“You like that?” Crowley purrs, looking up at Aziraphale with lust-filled eyes.

“Crowley...oh...yes...I-” He cuts off with a whimper as Crowley grips the base of his cock and slowly moves his hand up and down. He removes his mouth but his hand continues it’s slow, teasing movements.

“Fuck, angel!” Crowley gasps as Aziraphale wraps a hand around Crowley’s cock. “Oh, Go-Sata-fuck! I need you inside me, angel, please.” Crowley's eyes are begging as he stares up at the angel. Aziraphale looks at Crowley before reaching around to Crowley’s arse, fingers miraculously lubbed already. The angel traces a slow circle around the hole before pushing one finger inside, his eyes never leaving Crowley’s face. He bites his lip as he works the finger in and out before slowly adding another finger. Crowley gasps.

“That feels...so good,” Crowley whimpers. Aziraphale smirks and adds a third finger. The way Crowley's ass clenches around his fingers makes his cock twitch. “Fuuuuuuck.”

“How do you want to do this?” Aziraphale asks, realizing he should have asked earlier when Crowley could form coherent sentences.

“Anyway...just-fuck...need you.” Aziraphale pulls his fingers out, smiling slightly at Crowley’s protests, and maneuvers the redhead so that he is on his back, legs spread. Lining himself up, Aziraphale slowly enters, moaning as he feels Crowley squeeze around him. Once he’s all the way in, he stops to let Crowley adjust before slowly pulling out then thrusting back in. Crowley lets out a long moan and scrunches the sheets in his hands.

“You feel...so good,” Aziraphale pants, thrusting in and out slowly before speeding up. "I love the way you feel around me." Aziraphale feels Crowley's ass clench around his cock. Judging by the smirk on demon's face, he did that on purpose. Aziraphale narrows his eyes and slows down his pace, slamming into Crowley with a hard thrust. The sound of skin against skin fills the room.

“Faster,” Crowley whimpers and the blond does just that.

“Crowley, I-I can’t hold it...I’m gonna-”

“Me too-” Aziraphale thrusts faster. Crowley moans once more before his seed paints both men’s chests. Aziraphale thrusts into Crowley one more time before an explosion of pleasure fills him as he orgasms, filling Crowley with his seed. Tired, he pulls out of Crowley and snaps, cleaning up the mess with a snap.

“That was...wow!” Crowley croaks, fitting himself against Aziraphale’s side. “We should definitely do that again.” Aziraphale hums in agreement, wrapping an arm around his demon.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whispers, feeling his body relax. “I love you.” He hears Crowley shift his weight and wonders if it was wrong to say it when the demon moves away. Crowley stares down at him, a small smile on his face. He presses a slow kiss against Aziraphale's lips, his tongue dancing with the angel's tongue. When he pulls away, Aziraphale instantly misses the demon.

“I love you too,” Crowley murmurs, draping himself across Aziraphale’s chest. His head rests just under the blond's chin, his red hair tickling Aziraphale's chin. The angel burrows his face in the flaming locks. “Love you so much, angel.” All Aziraphale can do is smile as a gentle tiredness washes over his limbs. They may have stopped the end of the world and angered their respective sides, but having Crowley with him makes it all seem like it will be okay. And Aziraphale knows it will all be okay as long as he has Crowley by his side.

With a small smile, Aziraphale goes to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> So, they don't have to face their respective sides. It's like the book ending instead of the tv show ending. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking around! Love y'all! xoxo


End file.
